I’ve mentioned Kizzy several times before, but don’t think I’ve actually done a post on her.
Partner and I had just lost his GSD (though she took a shine to me and I loved her to bits) and Toad (see this post how he came to our household) was pining dreadfully.
I decided to pay a visit to a German Shepherd breeder on the outskirts of Bath to see if they had any older dogs available.
I could have come home with twenty pups, they were all so gorgeous, or I could select a sire and dam and have my pick of the litter, but when I explained what I was after, they couldn’t help me.
That was until someone mentioned a nervous five year old bitch that had been tied up and abandoned at their gates. I asked if I could have a look at her, and my heart broke.
She was a bag of bones and a nervous wreck. I sat quietly and let her adjust to my presence, then asked what the procedure was.
They told me they would bring her to my house the following weekend, and leave her for two weeks. If she didn’t settle, they would come and collect her.
I took the week off work and spent a lot of time with her, gaining her trust, but not being forceful. She got on with Toad and the rest of the household OK, so I rang the breeder up to say I’d like to keep her, and how much did they want. They told me a donation towards the next one would be gratefully received, so I gave them £30, which was most of my week’s wages at that time and all I could afford.
When I left the relationship in 1989, there was no way I could leave her behind.
She was so good with my brother’s youngsters, allowing the baby to shove wotsits up her nose and the boys rode her like a horse. Then I met Hubby, and he was the only one she barked at.
Six months later, we moved into a rented flat that allowed dogs and seven months after that we bought our first house.
During that time, we had plenty of walks in the New Forest, and have some hysterical memories. On one, Kizzy was so hot, she sat in a stream and wouldn’t budge. We went camping and she rolled in something stinky and unpleasant, and another time putting her feet on a fallen tree for Hubby to pick her up and carry her over, when she could easily have walked underneath. She also kept watch when I was desperate for a pee and had to go behind the bushes at Hengistbury Head, though Hubby sat on a tree trunk swinging his legs telling anyone passing by where I was and what I was doing!
I don’t know how I missed the growth on her side, but as soon as I realised something was amiss, I took her to the vet. He thought he could treat it with medication as she unlikely to survive surgery, but it got bigger and was hot to the touch. I was home ill over Christmas and saw her deteriorate terribly that last week. She couldn’t get comfortable to lie down, and when she did, couldn’t get up again. We had accidents indoors, and on New Year’s Eve, I took her to the vet for the final time.
It wasn’t encouraged to stay with your pet then, but I wish I had as I felt I was abandoning her all over again. I regret that.
I like to think she had five good years with me though.
If we like what the photographer does with Maggie’s canvas, we are hoping he might be able to do something similar with the picture above. It’s the only good shot I have of her.